A lone figure stands beneath ancient boughs, their roots entwining stories that the moon dare not utter. Here lies the sacred ground where the grove humans breathe melodies into the whispering void.
Their symphonies are carved not in notes but in pauses, silence resonating. Like night winds through skeletal branches, each breath sighs a tune only the stars can comprehend.
In the shadows, echoes of forgotten hymns linger; fragments of a dark serenade that slip from crimson lips. The grove harbors truths more profound than the dawn, hidden in its chorus of quiet shadows.
Discover more beneath the branches:
Dark Parables | Grove Wisps | The Unspoken Vox